The red lines in grey 2012
by Dashi
Summary: The Trade Federation gifts General Grievous with a human servant. Observing an organic life form leads him to re-evaluate the state of his body and mind. Is he loosing himself into his robotic body? A story I originally wrote in 2008, rewritten.


_**Author's note:** This was my Star Wars fan fiction from 2008. 4 years later, I decided to re-write the first chapter. Hopefully you like it!_

**FROM KALEE**

_Servants and slaves_. They were tossed around the Galaxy a lot those days. Even if in Coruscant, the home of modern sophistication, such merchandise was frowned upon, it was still - secretly - the most wanted of them all. It was the ultimate symbol of power. And so, it was no surprise they were sold in the shadows of the skyscrapers for the richest and the most powerful to buy.

But after having been captured into a robotic body, General Grievous found it hard to understand the reasons behind such fashion accessory trade. He wasn't able to understand the power beyond taking a life. It was likely it was the only power he knew anymore, since everything else had been taken away from him. He couldn't even make a physical expression as he possessed no face to speak of. And with the absence of an actual face, it seemed like his condition had washed all the emotion out of him. But then, killing was an art that knew no face or emotion - aside from anger. And that, the General still had in spades.

And it didn't go unnoticed by anyone when he was introduced to a certain commodity - a gift from the Trade Federation. The General knew this thing to be a sort of an indirect apology from the viceroy Nute Gunray, after having to deal with the consequences of calling General Grievous a droid._ 'A deed near unforgivable, and he tried to make it up with this?_' was the first thought that occurred to the General, when he let his gaze scan a young humanoid female that stood before him on the lower deck of the "Invisible Hand", the flag crusader of the separatist fleet. The ship had belonged to the Viceroy before the war and it was one thing, but the most recent gift from the Federation suggested that the neimoidians didn't know much about Grievous to begin with. And he hoped that they didn't have the impression that Grievous would have been of such feeble nature during his years of being organic.

With this thought, Grievous walked a loose circle around the human female. The General couldn't make out if she was an attractive specimen of her species or not. By the Kalee standard, she wasn't much to look at. Pale and tiny, though expensively dressed and, judging by the curve of her body, probably fertile.

Grievous closed his loopt. He brought his hands behind his back and leaned lightly closer, to see this feeble thing from eye to eye. But she didn't look at him. Not until the General's wet cough lured her blue gaze from behind a thick set of eyelashes. She seemed … surprised.

"What is this, Captain?" Grievous questioned with a tense tone. But then, the synthesized hum of his voice always made him sound tense.

The neimoidian, who both smelled and looked like a rotting swamp, recognized himself as the captain with a slight startle. His gaze snapped on the General and he stammered for a couple of seconds, he mouthed some neimoidian syllables before he actually spoke.

"I-it's a generous gift from the respected Viceroy, General!" His voice sounded like a wobbly bridge, ready to collapse at any given point. And while Grievous found this trait of the neimoidian race despicable, it was also flattering to his ego - to be surrounded by subordinates whom he had scared to respect him.

Grievous inhaled. The fluids in his lungs sloshed around in a discomforting fashion. He coughed and whined, getting a full serving of the humanoid female's eyes. She looked at him, partly worried, partly curious. And Grievous could only wonder if it was stupidity or ignorance - or possibly both - that kept her from being a shaky, scared mess, like all the neimoidians on the lower deck were. The only scared reaction Grievous got out of her was when he brought his face a few inches shy from hers. The general's eyes were narrow and cold.

"What a generous gift indeed," he said, his voice overpowered by the same tension as before. His fingers moved in an impatient manner behind his back. "She holds absolutely no value to me." These words planted some tension in the young woman, who was now sweeping the floor with her gaze. The general's foul breath fluttered around her face as heavy, heated clouds.

"I-I agree sir," said the neimoidian captain, who sat down on the captain's chair in a slow, stiff manner. Every word, every movement should be carefully considered, should the captain have any desire to keep his head attached to the rest of his body. Grievous wasn't known for his patience, and the neimoidian captain wasn't the first one to serve the post on board the "Invisible hand", either. "I mean, what could you possibly need a woman for, if you're a d-," The captain raised a thin set of fingers to his lips in shock. He realized that the approach he had been about to take was the wrong one.

Grievous inhaled sharply, offended. He shot an outraged look at the neimoidian's direction. Fury roared in the reptilian eyes as the rest of him turned to face to Captain. And it was as though Grievous had grown invisible set of hands and pushed the neimoidian to the back of his chair. Huge metal foot pounded the platform the captain's chair stood on, as the General brought his massive shadow over the tiny Captain.

"I dare you to finish that thought," the synthesized voice growled. "I promise you, it will be your last." His eyes were on the level of the neimoidian's, and he could read the panic from the alien's face.

A moment went by and the only thing Grievous got out of his pathetic subordinate was a scared little whimper. Despite his desire to squash the swamp maggot, he stepped down from the platform, leaving the captain to sigh in relief. Count Dooku wouldn't be too impressed if the General was to dispose of yet another Captain.

Now, his attention fixed back on the woman. She seemed of little value in battle, hence making her useless to the General. He could get rid of her here and now, to show the viceroy that his valuables held no meaning in Grievous's world. His forgiveness wasn't for sale. With this thought, the General glanced at the Captain, who tried to keep himself busy with his control panel, even if they were cruising in a straight, steady line at the moment. After that, Grievous leant forward, bringing his gaze close to the woman's face again.

"Identify yourself, human." he demanded.

The female's gaze was still coiling around the floor panels when the General spoke. And it remained the same when she answered:

"I don't have a name, sir," she said, her voice like Grievous had pictured it to be: tiny and pathetic, like all the rest of her was. There was a certain softness about it, as well. But in the General's world, softness was not an asset, but a flaw.

But still, should the General had had any eyebrows left, he would have raised one. The woman's statement had surprised him. How could this waste of skin have no name? How could one even live without one? That was by far the stupidest thing Grievous had ever heard - and he was surrounded by neimoidians and battle droids on a daily basis, so it was saying something.

And speaking of neimoidians, he shot an irritated glance at the Captain's direction again, as though their shared race would somehow have connected the Captain to the Viceroy, who was the cause of this stupid situation. And with an irritated wheeze, the General then turned around, leaving for the door. If he was to get rid of the female, he'd rather do it somewhere where her guts wouldn't make a royal mess right on his bridge.

"Move, will you," Grievous snapped from the door, when he realized the humanoid wasn't following him like she ought to.

Grievous didn't look at her when she remembered that she had a set of feet and started moving. He simply brought his hands together on his hunched back and continued his slow stroll into the corridors. The loud pounding of his magnetized feet buried any possible sound the woman made whilst moving. The only thing Grievous was able to make of it was a soft clinking of a bell - possibly attached to her clothing. And the sound reminded him of something very distant in his past - something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But being nostalgic wasn't one of the General's many vices. The thought was shaken easily, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"What is your talent, human?" he then thought out loud.

His tone was rather unhappy, and it seemed that the female caught that. It wasn't like it was especially hard to. And, even if the general couldn't see it after turning his gaze back to the corridors, there was a slightly surprised face that the young female made. She looked as though she wasn't sure what kind of an answer the General was looking for. She was just a simple servant, after all.

"I can sew, sir," she replied silently.

The General's forced breathing grew heavier. His neck extended and he gave out a set of coughs, which were followed by little synthesized whine. Shaking his head, he then turned left from the main corridor and said:

"That is a useless talent."

The general didn't look at the female while he spoke.

The woman chuckled in a sad way.

"I...I guess you're right, sir," she answered with an echo of a depressed little smile in her voice.

Then, a silence followed. A silence, which showed how far apart these two creatures actually were from one-another. What ever had the Viceroy been thinking when he had decided to give the general such a gift - an object that had no place on a battle ship? Maybe this had been intended as a further insult to him, who knew. And then, suddenly, right in the middle of this very thought, Grievous' audio sensors picked up something that made him halt - a sudden question.

"Master Grievous is from Kalee, is he not?" asked the woman.

The echos of the little bell came to a halt as the general stopped and swung his sight over his shoulder. Those narrow, yellow eyes measured the female for a moment, like he would have seen her for the very first time. A couple of dragging breaths were drawn. The pupils of his eyes grew even thinner as the cyborg just stood still, ending the silence with a little cough.

"Has someone told you so?" the general then asked in return, his eyes focused on the female who seemed to have forgotten all about fear again. She looked back at him, her blue eyes wide with curiosity and worry - much like they had been a few moments ago.

In all honesty, Grievous was surprised about the question asked, even if he was sure that someone had simply leaked the information to this female. After all, as far as the general himself was concerned, all of the elements which made a proper kaleesh, he was missing. His nationality could not be deducted with a single glance, of that he was sure.

"N-no, sir. It's the way master speaks that reminds me of Kalee. And his eyes, they're..," the woman then answered after a little pause had fallen in between words, those of hers and those of his. And while she spoke, her soft gaze visited the floor and then climbed back to the general's left eye, which she could see peeking over a cloaked shoulder.

_Coughing shatttered the silence once again._

And even that had a surprised quality to it.

The woman didn't finish her answer. Maybe she lacked the proper description to the things she saw in the general. He felt a subtle wave of amusement passing through those few organic parts he still had left in him. Had this feeble creature really made all that out simply by observing him? It was somewhat impressive, really. And with this thought, Grievous changed direction for his personal quarters.

"Well now," he started with a lighter note.

"You have just proven to be a lot smarter than you appear."


End file.
